


Sickness and Health

by raspberrylimonade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mentioned Scott McCall, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: Stiles has been unwell but hid it from Lydia. Of course, she finds out and hunts him down.





	Sickness and Health

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Jamie](www.foulwitchqueen.tumblr.com), who won my fic giveaway on Tumblr!

**_\- So_ **

**_\- There’s more work than I thought there would be. Have to stay here over the weekend._ **

_\- Need any help? I can always drive down there._

**_\- It’s fine, really. We’ve got it covered. And your work needs you right now._ **

_\- And you don’t?_

**_\- That’s not a fair question._ **

_\- Why so?_

**_\- I always need you._ **

Lydia shook her head and smiled at the same time as she switched from the message window to GPS. Stiles was so infuriatingly sweet sometimes. Amongst the qualities the duo shared, obstinacy and a tendency to get too immersed in their work cropped up a lot. Fortunately, Lydia and Stiles were also most likely to successfully get each other to take a break. One of the many reasons why they worked.

As of late, they were both having busy weeks. Stiles had been out of town - the FBI had been called down to southern California to assist in solving a series of possibly related murders. Stiles had freaked out at first, because the town happened to be really close to Davis, where Scott was finishing up vet school. Thankfully, it turned out to be a perfectly normal, non-supernatural case for once.

He had been away for almost two weeks now, and Lydia relished the thought of surprising him. Besides, she was in need of a break herself. She was part of a research team across the UC system that was making stellar progress. It was exciting, but also meant a lot more lab meetings and reports.

The Pacific County sheriff’s station was a lot like that in Beacon Hills, but larger and housing more staff. A couple of deputies and federal agents milled around, folders tucked under their arms, and three more agents were having a discussion in the far corner of the front room. There was no sight of Stiles.

_He must be in the back,_ Lydia figured. She hefted the strap of her purse up her shoulder and strutted to the front desk.

The officer on front desk duty looked up when Lydia was three feet away. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“I’m picking someone up,” Lydia said sweetly, placing her hands on the countertop so her engagement ring was visible. “Agent Stilinski. Can you tell him Lydia Martin is here?”

The officer’s brows furrowed in confusion. They leaned forward to check something on the desktop.

“Agent Stilinski isn’t in today,” they informed Lydia finally. “He has been on medical leave for three days now.”

Lydia was stunned, to say the least, but if there was anything she was good at, it was not showing when something had caught her off guard. She calmly asked if she could still find Stiles at the hotel she knew the federal agents to be housed at. She received her second surprise when the desk officer informed her that most of the feds should have left the previous day.

“The case is wrapping up, only a couple of them are staying to settle the paperwork.” The officer glanced down at the countertop, where Lydia’s fingers were now curled into her palms. Lydia imagined what they must have thought - what kind of person doesn’t know their fiancé is ill?

Well, the kind whose fiancé doesn’t tell you they are ill, she thought indignantly, for whatever dumb and convoluted reason that Stiles had probably come up with.

She quickly thanked the officer and walked out of the station slowly. Once seated in her car again, she let out an exasperated sigh and pursed her lips. _Oh, Stiles._

She had pretty good idea of where to find Stiles. Still, she swung by the hotel anyway, just to cover all her bases. It wasn’t much of a detour, being fairly close to the station. Her hunch was confirmed - Mieczyslaw Stilinski was no longer on the guest list. That left one more place he could be.

* * *

Stiles hugged the box of tissues closer to the throw cushion closer to his chest and groaned. His legs and free arm hung over the sides of the couch. On the ground was a wastepaper bin overflowing with crumpled wads of tissue.

Isaac looked up from the kitchenette without a single drop of emotion on his face. Since Stiles had showed up yesterday, the werewolf had already gone through annoyed, scathing, and exasperated.

Stiles blew his nose for the umpteenth time. “I know you’re looking at me.”

“You’re a mess,” Isaac simply stated. Stiles huffed indignantly, so the werewolf added, “You’re a mess on my couch.”

“Scott bought the couch.”

“No, he bought the table.”

“Which he doesn’t use,” Stiles managed as he blew his nose a couple of times. “Why’s he studying in the library when he got himself a table?”

“Actually, he’s on shift now,” Isaac informed him, taking a seat at said table. Stiles was lying with his head on the end of the couch closest to the table, so he could not actually see Isaac, but he imagined the other young man sipping his tea, one ankle crossed over his other knee. Seriously, the guy went to Europe for a few years…

“And for the record, the library doesn’t have people sneezing loudly two feet away from him.”

Stiles would have retorted, but instead he sneezed again, proving Isaac’s point. He grabbed a handful of tissue and mopped the mucus off his upper lip.

Isaac sighed tiredly. “You can’t stay here forever.”

“Try me.” Stiles’ words would have been a muffled mess behind more tissue, plus the fact that he was rubbing his nose rather violently, which affected his speech. Isaac could only catch them because of his wolf hearing.

“Lydia will find out sooner or later. You may as well go back and face her now.”

Stiles sighed. He was fully aware that Lydia would storm across the state with a trail of destruction in her wake just to accost him with a harsh stare and a fiercely raised eyebrow if she ever found out the real reason he hadn’t returned home yet. But, he had convinced himself, it was for a good cause.

“No thanks, I’ll bet on later. If I go back now, she’s going to take time off work to help me, and she can’t do that. Her group is on the verge of getting published, they might be invited for a presentation too. She’s swamped enough right now,” he reasoned.

He heard the sound of a mug being set on the wooden desktop. So Isaac _was_ drinking tea. “So _I_ have to take care of you.”

“Scott’s the doctor, not you.”

“Uh, _animal_ doctor,” Isaac corrected. “Who has work and crazy grad school midterms coming up.”

“You’re right, he’s taking care of _you,_ not me.”

Stiles expected a retort, and twisted on the couch to face the other guy when he didn’t get any. Isaac’s ears had perked up, listening. His eyes met Stiles’, and a large smirk bloomed across his face.

“Great, now I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”

“Scott wouldn’t kick me out,” Stiles argued weakly. Isaac ignored him as he sauntered over to the door.

* * *

Isaac answered the door with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Lydia!” he greeted cheerily. “You have no idea how _great_ it is to see you!”

“He’s in there isn’t he? Stiles!” Lydia yelled into the apartment.

Inside, Stiles groaned and rolled off the couch. There was no hiding now.

“Hey Lyds,” he croaked, dragging his feet to the doorway. Isaac backed off so he could slump against the door frame. “How was work?”

“Funny you ask me that, because from what I hear, _you_ haven’t been at work.”

Stiles opened his mouth, most likely to make a joke or an excuse, perhaps both, but sneezed loudly instead. One hand immediately clamped over his nose and mouth, and he made a frustrated sound behind his fingers.

Isaac appeared behind him again, wheeling a suitcase beside him. Lydia took the handle.

“ _Thank you,_ Isaac.” Then she turned back to Stiles. His nose was red and his eyes were watery. He had to sniff every five seconds. His hair was particularly mussed at the back, which meant he had spent most of the last 72 hours lying down.

Her initial annoyance was quickly dissipating, but she still quirked a well-defined eyebrow at him.

“Are we going now?” Stiles asked meekly, like a child being called away from the playground.

Lydia folded her arms across her chest and gave him a look. _Well, what do you think?_

“I’ll get my pillow,” Stiles mumbled. He disappeared back inside the apartment, and Lydia heard a sneeze echo from within.

“So,” Isaac started. “Stiles said you’re about to publish another paper?”

Lydia nodded proudly. “That’s right.”

“What’s this, number three?”

“Number four.”

Isaac let out a small, impressed _huh,_ his eyebrows disappearing into his long curls.

“Anything new for you?” Lydia asked him. Isaac worked at a small independent publishing company where he proofread written work and occasionally set pages for comics.

He chuckled. “Waiting for a client to send me their revision. That’s why I’ve had time to play nurse all day.”

“You just enjoy watching me suffer.”

Stiles had made his way back to the door, blue pillow tucked under his arm. He stepped into a pair of loosely laced sneakers, then shuffled over the threshold to join Lydia in the corridor. He let out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he exhaled.

Lydia tightened her grip on the luggage handle and looked to Isaac once more. “Well at any rate, thanks. Say hi to Scott for me.”

Isaac waved them off by tipping two fingers off his forehead.

* * *

Stiles expected Lydia to lay it on him the moment they got into the car. Instead, she advised him to take a nap.

“You’re not mad?”

Lydia sighed. “Not exactly. I can’t _believe_ you, Stiles, but I’m not really mad, no.”

“Didn’t wanna get you sick,” Stiles mumbled, pulling the tissue box off the dashboard and onto his lap. Might as well keep it close. “You’re about to make a big break. Oh, I forgot to tell Isaac you also have extra office hours since that class you’re TA-ing has midterms coming too.”

“That’s not - ” Lydia began to argue, but stopped herself. She did not want to say her research or teaching duties were not important.

She turned to Stiles when they stopped at a red light. “Look at it this way. If I asked you to list the most important things in your life - ”

“You,” Stiles answered immediately. “My dad. Scott.”

Lydia was almost distracted by the little flutter in her heart. Almost.

“Right,” she continued. “And if we ever needed you, for even the tiniest reason…”

“I’d drop everything,” Stiles finished. He sniffed loudly, then paused. “Oh.”

Lydia hummed in approval. She was starting to feel glad that Stiles had finally understood. Stiles being Stiles, however, always had something to add.

“It’s just a bad case of the flu, though,” he insisted in his sick, tinny voice. “You don’t have to stay home for me or anything.”

“I know, Stiles,” Lydia assured him. She shifted gears as the light turned green and started the car again. “I just want to be there for you, okay? I want to stop at the pharmacy on the way home from campus because I’m getting medicine _for you._ I want to drink hot chicken soup for a week because that’s what’s best _for you._ And - let’s hope not, but - if you ever come down with something _bad,_ I _will_ take time off to take care of you, whether I get sick too or not.”

“Okay,” Stiles relented. His voice had gotten softer now, the way it always did whenever one of them gave a heartfelt speech. “The reverse applies too. Just so you know.”

Lydia felt the corner of her lips drift upwards. They drove up an entry ramp and stalled again, waiting for their turn to pull onto the freeway. Lydia reached over and placed a hand on Stiles’ thigh. Her engagement ring glinted in the evening sun.

“Sickness and health,” she told him. “May as well start now.”

With that, they pulled on the freeway, headed back to their shared home.


End file.
